


How Loki Almost Stole Christmas

by loki_dokey



Category: Captain America (2011), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Christmas, Merry Christmas, Oops silly Loki, Santa Claus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 23:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loki_dokey/pseuds/loki_dokey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor experiences his first Christmas, aiding Steve in his quest to decorate the Avengers Tower. Cooking Christmas dinner seems to be the biggest challenge the team has ever faced until Coulson reveals a skill no one knew he had. Nick Fury has a run-in with a Christmas hat.</p><p>And Loki plots to kill Santa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thor has always enjoyed festivities. Growing up as the heir of Asgard, the parties and feasts were bountiful, grand and truly fit for a king. Tables were laden with great roast boar and other tantalising treats, and he and his friends would jest most jovially far into the night, telling tales of adventure, slurring from too much alcohol.

When the month of December on the human calendar arrives, Thor ponders why his soldier friend is dashing about the Avengers’ tower hanging orbs of coloured light upon every available wall surface.

“Are you performing some sort of a ritual?”

Steve cranes his neck over his shoulder, not turning from hooking an orb over a pipe, and raises an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“Alas, I have not heard of the Huh ritual. Nay, I have not heard of many Earthly rituals. These glowing beacons are most delightful, however.” Thor taps a nail on the light beside him, but does not anticipate its clear shell to be so frail. It pops – loudly – and the entire string of lights flickers and extinguishes. Thor pins his hand to his side and slowly brings his eyes to Steve’s, who’s staring at Thor, looking completely lost for words.

“ _Thor,_ damn it!” he groans, bounding down from his ladder and stalking over to the result of Thor’s interference.

“I apologise if I have spoiled your preparations, Captain.” Thor really is very sorry. Steve looks on the brink of heartbreak.

“It took me _two hours_ to-”

And the Steve pauses. He takes a deep breath in, exhales, and then smiles at Thor.

“Y’know what? It doesn’t even matter. It’s almost Christmas! Far too merry a time to get angry. Even for Bruce, I dare say.”

It is Thor’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Who is this Chris Mass of whom you speak of so fondly?”

Steve laughs, clapping Thor on the shoulder. “Christmas isn’t a person, big guy. It’s a Christian festival where we celebrate the birth of-”

“Continue no further with your tale, my friend. You had me at ‘festival’! Am I to assume that this festival involves plentiful feasts and joy?”

“It sure does.”

Thor grins widely. “Then I shall aid you in your quest to perform this ritual so that we can make haste in arranging the merriment of Christmas!”

“…Ritual?”

“The ritual of Huh, of course!”

“…The ritual of Hu- oh! _Oh!_ You mean what you were babbling about earlier? No no, these lights aren’t – _weren’t_ – for a ritual! They’re for Christmas too! See, within the celebrations, we decorate our houses with bright lights and tinsel and a huge tree covered in more lights, more tinsel and sometimes candy canes, if we’re lucky. Then, at the very top sits an angel, who watches over us all through the holiday season.”

“…You humans have strange festivities,” Thor says decidedly. “Yet…it does sound gloriously magnificent. A tree, you say?”

“A tree,” Steve confirms with pride. “And I’m gonna put one right in the centre of the living room.”

Thor startles. “You mean to state that you place trees _inside?_ Why?”

“…That’s…just the way it is, I guess? But yeah, it’s inside. All the gifts are placed beneath it.”

“Gifts to whom, your God? What animals do you sacrifice?”

Steve’s eyes widen, and he chuckles. “Not _those_ kinds of gifts. It’s items we give to each other out of affection and sentiment.”

 “…That…that…why, I did not think Christmas could prove any better than you already claimed! Oh ho, in light of the information you have shared with me with regard to Christmas, I am more than open to assisting you in any way I can!”

“Fantastic!” Steve chirps, his face dawning with happiness. “You seem to be the only other person willing to help me out.”

“What reasons do they have to deny revelling in such marvellous activities?”

“They’re too busy. Tony and Bruce are getting hounded by Fury to continue working on…whatever it is they’re working on. And Natasha and Clint are away for a few days with Coulson and some agents at a conference in Toronto. So it’s just you and me, buddy. Setting up for Christmas. It’s in a week, by the way. On the twenty-fifth.”

Thor rubs his hands together. “Then we must get to work!”

*

Loki has always enjoyed festivities as much as the next man, maybe even more so, but ever since the discovery of his true heritage, he finds it difficult to look back on those once-happy times with much happiness at all. With sorrow he decides that every jest he had ever shared with Odin was one that the Allfather had not had his heart in because, as Loki had been so brutally told, he was but a stolen relic.

He sighs sadly as he walks through the streets of New York. No one recognises him – he’s transfigured into his female form. A thick black jacket with green trimming is wrapped around him, and his boots crunch down on the sludgy black snow that has been churned by the persistent crowds. It appears as though the humans are beginning to celebrate “Christmas”. There is a putrid sense of merriment in the air that twists his innards.

He knows all about Christmas after conversing with some drunken loon in a bar a few nights previously. Apparently in religious aspects, some humans celebrate the birth of a child named Jesus, whoever that is. For others, it’s mainly about a plump, bearded old man who dresses in red, flies a sleigh and delivers presents to all of the children around the globe.

Loki thinks this sounds a lot like magic.

Magic he’s very interested in procuring.

Santa comes on Christmas Eve, a week from now. Loki plans to wait him out, and strike when the aged goof least expects it. That way he can demand that he give over his power and his flying reindeer (Loki likes the idea of a flying contraption. He’ll make sure he transfigures the reindeer though. From their appearance in store windows, they look far too cute to be the beasts that drag his chariot. Plus, their horns resemble his own helmet, and he really doesn’t want to be mocked for that.) Then he’ll kill the (Loki peers through a toy store window at an open story book about the ruddy man) ‘right jolly old elf’ (he most certainly is not an elf. Loki has had run-ins with elves before. He knows what they look like. Humans, clearly, have no real brains whatsoever) with the ‘belly like a bowlful of jelly’ and be done with it.

He passes a woman ringing a bell and holding a bucket.

“Money for the poor! Money for the poor!” she cries most aggravatingly. Loki hasn’t had much fun in a while – mischief being fun – and decides to fix that problem. With a casual, sly flick of his wrist, the bucket begins to fill with small snakes. The woman doesn’t realise. Loki leans against a nearby wall and waits.

Sure enough, a hunched old woman stops to drop some coins into the bucket, peers inside, screams and then faints on the ground. Loki smirks, watching the crowd form and then scarper at the noticing of the serpents.

A smug smile on his face, Loki tucks his hands into his pockets, holding his head high, and disappears into the crowd.

*

“But why can I not use Mjölnir to-”

“THOR!” Steve cries, exasperated, “just use the normal hammer to put the tinsel up!”

“But Mj-”

“You will _break_ the fireplace if you use Mjölnir. Look, if you don’t do it then I will.”

Thor unwillingly places Mjölnir at his feet. “No! Steve, this is my task. I will do this.” Gingerly, he lifts the puny Midgardian hammer which he could crush into splinters if he so wished, but instead begins knocking a nail into the fireplace and attaching the tinsel accordingly.

“Funny how everything Stark does is so high tech, but he builds a traditional fireplace,” Steve says from the rafters, hanging another giant bauble.

“It’s homely,” Tony announces as he steps into the room, closely followed by Bruce. “At least that’s what the movies say it is. It’s not like I’ve actually ever had a real fireplace. Maybe I’m making up for my deprived childhood.” He shrugs. “Who knows?” The two stop to admire the other’s work.

“Nice job, guys!” Bruce chimes, walking to Thor and holding up the other end of the tinsel to make it easier. Thor grins. Placing his hands on his hips, Tony peers up at Steve.

“Those sure are some big balls you got there.”

Bruce snorts.

Steve scowls.

“Why don’t you start helping out if you’re available?”

“I’m always available for you, baby,” Tony winks, and Steve just rolls his eyes and glares. Tony lifts his hands in defence. “Okay, okay. Jeez, d’you put on your pants too tight, Cappers? Take a joke, will ya?”

“Will you help or not?”

“What’s to do?”

“You could always decorate the outside of the tower.”

The noise Tony makes is nothing short of undignified. “I’m sorry, but you want me to put tacky lights across my building?”

“Don’t then.”

“No need to get stroppy.”

“I’m not!”

“Woah, any tenser and those pants are gonna ping off, what with all those muscles flexing. See, there’s one bulging in your jaw right now.”

Steve drops from the rafters and approaches Tony. “Shut up, Stark, and go and do something proactive.”

“…You shut up,” Tony mutters childishly.

Steve is about to retaliate when Thor steps between them, hammer raised.

“You two are not acting the way the spirit of Christmas intends! You, Steve, taught me that Christmas is a time for peace and joy. Do not quarrel further. And you, Tony…” Thor lifts his hammer as though ready to send Tony flying. “You go and put lights on the building because Steve is excited about all of this and you are killing his Christmas festivities with your refusal.”

Steve goes red, and Tony stares at Thor who is literally right up in his face.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll…put some lights up. For Steve.” He looks past Thor. “Because this is a special time of year for babby cap cap America, isn’t it schnookums?” The babyish turn on his voice clearly amuses Bruce, who’s cackling, but Thor takes a step forwards and Tony scarpers in the direction of his suit.

*

“Sonofabitch Christmas lights on my own damn building,” Tony grumbles to himself as he fixes the last of the lights to the tower. He propels away far enough to take in its entirety.  
  
“Okay, Cap. Throw the switch.”  
  
Steve doesn’t reply, but obviously hears him because suddenly the lights flare and the Avengers tower looks…looks…  
  
“Well?” Steve asks hopefully. Tony bites his lip, and lowers his eyebrows.  
  
“Sorry I doubted you, Steve-O. It’s impressive, to say the least. But  _everything_  I do is at least impressive, so.” Tony can almost see Steve roll his eyes.   
  
When Tony walks back into the living room, Bruce is settled in an armchair with a book, Steve is fixing the askew tinsel on the fireplace and Thor is…nowhere to be seen.  
  
“Where’s Pointbreak?”   
  
Bruce lifts his eyes from his novel and looks around. “…He was here a moment ago?”  
  
“I think he mentioned having some sort of revelation,” Steve says. He perches himself on the arm of Bruce’s chair. Tony stretches, getting out all of the kinks in his joints, before sliding his phone from his pocket and hitting the speed dial. Pepper answers, but she sounds flustered.   
  
“You okay, honey?” he asks, worried since she’s hissing curse words under her breath.  
  
“I fell out of the bath on the way to get my phone.”  
  
“Are you hurt?”  
  
“…Not really.”  
  
“Good. Now I can laugh because the whole image of that is hilarious.”  
  
“Ha ha,” she sighs, sarcastic. “Let’s all joke about Pepper’s pain. Why did you even call, Tony?”  
  
“Because Christmassy.”  
  
“…Pardon?”  
  
“The living room. It’s all Christmassy. I wanted you to see it. Also, the tower’s covered in lights and I’m really proud that it doesn’t look tacky and I just wanted to take you onto the roof of the bank at the end of the block so you could admire it and then I could kiss you senseless.” He pauses to let her breathe. Then he shrugs. “But, y’know, whatever.”

“I…uh…I’ll dry off then and-”

“Oh no. You can’t just tell me you’re in the bath and think I’m not going to join you. The lights can wait.” Tony glances down. “I, however, cannot.”

*

Thor is proud of himself, oh  _isn’t Thor proud of himself._ His momentous idea had struck upon him like a bolt of his own lightening, and he had bid Steve and Bruce farewell before going back to Asgard to seek out what he had come for. People greet him as he walks up the palace steps – bowing and curtsying – smiling to welcome their prince home, if it be only for a moment. Mjölnir swings at his side, and he crosses the courtyard, breaking into a sprint when he makes the forest. He knows what he is looking for – he and Loki used to play in these lands as children. He runs fast, wind whipping his hair in his eyes until at last he stops; stares.

He finds his prize.

*

Tony is grinning curiously when he emerges from the elevator, Steve thinks.  _Perhaps they fondue’d._

Pepper follows behind him, her cheeks pink, and Steve has to turn away because dammit if they’re not flaunting it right there.

“I’m gonna go show Pepper the tower,” Tony announces, jerking his thumb towards the window.

“I think you already did that,” Bruce says, not looking up from his book. Tony chooses to ignore this comment, and Bruce does lift his eyes to only Steve who smiles back at him.

 Tony is heading towards his suit when there’s an almighty crash outside. Then he runs to his suit and jumps into it. Steve is on his feet, along with Bruce, who’s growling dangerously. Pepper is standing her ground, unprotected but courageous nonetheless. The four of them exit the living room onto the balcony, and Steve’s jaw hits the ground.

“Greetings, friends!” Thor cries gleefully. “I found us a tree!”

Weighing down on Thor’s upstretched hands is the most enormous, un-Christmas looking tree Steve has ever seen. Its branches and trunk are twisted somewhat beautifully, but it is absolutely  _humongous._

“I collected one that would just fit inside our living room! Isn’t it grand?”

Pepper, Bruce, Tony and Steve share questioning stares, but none of them can reject Thor’s “gift” because the god just looks so damn  _proud._ And the face that he went to collect this tree all by himself brings tears to Steve’s eyes. Thor really is trying to get into Christmas.

“It’s perfect, Thor. Completely, one hundred percent  _perfect_.”


	2. Chapter 2

The giant-ass tree is left on the balcony for a few days whilst a pot big enough to root it is found and the living room is finished. Tony isn’t impressed by the fact that there’s a tree just lying haphazard on his building, but he doesn’t voice his opinions on it because Thor’s just really touchy about the tree.

Clint and Natasha have arrived back from Toronto, and nobody was ever aware of how excitable Clint got around the holidays.

“I love Christmas!” he chirrups, flitting about touching every Christmassy item he sees. “Best time of year. Presents! Candy! Santa!”

“Santa?” Thor asks.

Clint’s eyes go round. “You don’t know who _Santa is?!”_

“He’s a god from another realm, Clint,” Bruce explains with a deep sigh. “Of course he doesn’t know who Santa is.”

Clint turns back to Thor and delves into a very detailed explanation about Santa Claus, and Thor’s own eyes light up with awe and wonder.

“What is this Midgardian magic that you have kept hidden from me? I was not aware that humans had such power!”

“They don’t. He’s simply a fairy story that children grow up believing until their dreams are crushed when they realise the only people putting presents under the tree are their parents.” Tony smirks when he sees Clint’s angered face.

Thor looks to them all. “Why do you deceive one another so?”

Steve shrugs. “Because it makes your childhood magical? And yeah, it hurts when you find out that it’s made up, but then you remember the fantastic life you had as a kid because you believed in something so wonderful.”

“Jeez Captain, that’s deep shit.” Tony puts his hand to his heart. “I had a wonderful young life and I always knew Santa was a con.”

“Shut up, all of you!” comes an enraged voice from above. Somehow, Clint had managed to ascend to the rafters without need of a ladder. “Some of us choose to keep believing.”

“Oh _Clint,”_ Tasha pouts sadly.

“What? One wholly happy thing to look forward to every year is too much to ask for? Even if you have to pretend you don’t know it’s not real?”

Everyone shuffles their feet awkwardly. Clint folds his arms and slumps, turning his back so he can sulk without them seeing.

*

Loki sits in the park, twiddling his thumbs. He’s bored, lonely, and he’s feeling…grim. He’s having to behave himself and not lure attention whilst he waits for Christmas Eve to arrive, since he can’t be defeated when Midgardian magic is so close to being his that he can almost feel it pulsating through him. So, over the past days, he has merely been wandering the streets of New York in his female form, occasionally drifting back to the apartment he’s staying in to sleep and relax.

He hates _hates_ to admit it, but there’s something in the air at this time of year that makes humans emit an infectious joy that seems to slip into his lips and curl them into a subconscious smile. It’s the childish glee that he used to feel as a boy; the magic, the mystery – the indestructible hope – that takes him back to a time when nothing was on his shoulders. He was just a boy – impish and naïve – desperate for adventure. 

He stands from the bench and heads towards the streets once more. Somehow, the dark cloak of misery that his betrayal has draped over everything has faded ever so slightly, and he can look at things without so much hatred and rage. He recognises a toy store and precariously steps inside, peering around at the smiling faces and abundance of toys. A young girl bumps into him and he’s about to snap at her when she looks into his face with glowing blue eyes and says, “Sorry mister! Merry Christmas!” before bouncing off towards her mother. Loki doesn’t know what it is, but something…has _changed_ within him.

He doesn’t like it.

He shouldn’t _enjoy_ this happiness. He’s not allowed to. He’s focused his existence on pain and anger.

…Hasn’t he?

*

That evening, the tree has found a home nestled snugly in the biggest pot Steve and Bruce could find in New York. The towering foliage awaits its Christmas dressing, with six armed (with ornaments and tinsel) Avengers standing at its base.

“Plan of action, Cap?” Clint asks, eyebrows low.

Steve nods. “Barton, you take the peak. Bring that tinsel down around the tree like your abseiling a cylindrical cliff. Stark, you’re on lights duty. Follow the perimeter of the tinsel. Add a little pizazz in there of your own if you want, but don’t stray too far off target. Tasha, ornaments?” She nods, holding them up for Steve to see. “Good. Bruce, you’re on ribbons. Just pin ‘em randomly. Thor, you do candy canes.”

“What’s your position?” Tony asks, leaning against a solid branch, adorning his suit. Steve puts his hands on his hips.

“I’ll direct,” he says with pride, head held high.

“You….you _do_ that.”

With that, the team advance upon the tree, with orders being yelled by Steve to, “Not put that there!” and, “A little more to the left!” All the while, a mix CD chosen by JARVIS is swooning out Nat King Cole, and even Tony has to admit that he’s never felt like such a part of a family.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” he states as he crosses paths with Tasha, who throws him a disbelieving look. “Woah, I’m being serious! It’s…family…lily..ly – what’s the word? Is there a word? Family-esque?”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Stark,” Tasha chuckles, but it’s a warm sound which is very rare to get out of the Black Widow.

“Looking good, guys!” Pepper has finally finished work, and she’s standing beside Steve, arms crossed, and watching their progress. “But there’s a gap just below your foot, Thor. No…yeah, just there! That’s the trick.” She smiles, and her eyes meet Tony’s as he peeks between the branches.

“Well isn’t this _somethin’_ ,”Nick Fury declares with open arms and – _wait_ \- is that a _smile_ on his face? “I never thought I’d see this.”

“What? Six superheroes working together for the greater good of the Avenger tower deco and thus improving the environment with Christmassy goodness thus _initiating_ a feeling of merriment which, in turn, may actually improve our abilities on the field?” Tony has landed, finished with his job, and greets Pepper with a kiss on the cheek and Fury with expectancy. Fury just smirks and pats him on the shoulder.

“Just don’t get too distracted by the festivities. City’s been worryingly quiet these past few weeks. I’d bet ten bucks that Loki’s plotting something.”

“Probably trying to steal Christmas or something. Fitting, actually. Since he’s into green. And has a tiny if _no_ heart at all.”

“I do not understand?” Thor appears troubled. “You cannot steal Christmas! It is a spirit, Steve tells me. A deep, ingrained spirit that keeps joy even when trouble is afoot.”

Tony stares into the god’s eyes and places a hand on his arm. “I think you’ve figured out the understanding all on your own, Thunderpants. But now you’ve ruined the end of the book for Clint. Aw.” An ornament smashes at Tony’s feet.

“CLINT, DON’T BREAK THE DECORATIONS!” Steve hollers.

*

When all the work is done, there is but one job left.

“Go on, Steve,” Pepper urges, placing the porcelain angel into the man’s hands. He looks at it, passing it gently over his palms, and then stares pointedly at the pinnacle of the tree.

“So no one else wants to-”

“Dammit, soldier! You have orders!” Tony whacks him on the back and Steve walks forwards, grasping a branch and swinging himself up into the tree. His head pops out at the top, and he slowly lowers the angel onto the highest twig. There’s an outbreak of applause, and a collective, “Good job, team.”

“Well, I’m beat,” Clint yawns, cracking his back.

“Did da spiwit of Chwistmas get too much faw da leedle archer?” Tony teases, fully prepared for the fist that actually does come flying his way. They spar for a few moments, their audience laughing and jeering insults – egging them on. Tony gets in a good left hook to Clint’s jaw, but Clint dips out of sight for hardly a millisecond and suddenly Tony’s on his ass, dazed, with his teammates and girlfriend giggling.

“That’s right, laugh at my pain,” Tony grumbles. Pepper kneels - shaking with laughter - by his side and brushes his hair back.

“Oh don’t worry, Tony,” she says wickedly, “I will.”

*

Loki doesn’t quite know how he’s got here. It’s Christmas Eve, the night of his great plan to unfold and for chaos to ensue, but he’s _uncertain._ And he doesn’t even know what about. Well, he does, but he doesn’t exactly want to admit it. This _Santa_ man. He delivers presents and joy to the children all over the world. _He_ is what Loki saw in the eyes of that small girl in the toy store. _He_ is what makes the atmosphere so _glorious._ It is _he_ who gives hope to all on this Midgardian day. Can Loki really kill the man who reminds him of who he really was…who he still _is,_ deep down?

Loki is aware of Thor’s involvement in the festivities with the Avengers. He is abashedly jealous that he can’t be a part of such joviality, and he has to kick himself for even thinking that. From his place atop his apartment building, he can see the Avengers tower shimmering with lights, like a strange Christmas tree.

Is he really ready to ruin Christmas for children all over the world? Does he not want, in his heart, to simply revel in the wonder that Christmas brings? Has that not been what he has struggled with so intimately this past week?

“Argh!” he yells to the skies in despair. “What have I become?”

But no one answers. Maybe because he already knows the answer. The question is not what he has become, but what he has _un_ become. Slowly, but nevertheless surely, the cloak of misery has faded to almost nothing. He takes a gulp of air as deep as his lungs will allow.

Santa will fly safe tonight.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The team of Avengers are sprawled out across the living room. Bruce is snoozing in his chair, Tasha is admiring the tree, Clint is humming happily and Tony is snuggled on the sofa with Pepper, in a hushed conversation that just thrums with intimacy and love. Steve sighs contentedly, but is snapped back to the task at hand when Thor grunts agitatedly.

“How long do these chestnuts take to roast?” the god demands, impatient. The two are kneeling on the hearth, with Thor shaking the contents of the pan over the flames in a quest to make them heat faster.

“I think they’re ready,” Steve says, taking the pan handle from Thor and removing the lid with a cloth. Thor licks his lips and goes to take one. Steve smacks his hand. “No! Too hot for eating now. Let them cool down!”

“I am far more durable than you believe, my friend.” Thor crosses his arms. “But if you _must_ make me wait longer.” Suddenly, Thor’s head snaps up. Steve watches his concentrated expression, which hardens with every passing second.

“…Thor? Everything okay?”  Clint asks.

The Avengers are alert.

Thor cocks his head to the side. “…Spare me five minutes,” he says, and climbs to his feet, exiting onto the balcony.

*

By the time Thor returns inside, the team is assembled in their gear, ready for action. Thor opens his arms widely, grinning from ear to ear.

“My friends, put down your weapons. Today is a day for celebration, not battle! Marvellous tidings, I bring!” Thor stops in the centre of the space between the door and his teammates.

“Care to elaborate?” Tony presses.

“Ah, jubious, marvellous tidings!” Thor sing-songs. “My brother has reformed, and wishes to sincerely apologise for his despicable past actions in return for your forgiveness.”

Silence.

Laughter.

“Your _brother_ wants to say _sorry,”_ Bruce roars, tears filling his eyes. The rest are responding similarly, but Steve is the only one who remains steadfast.

“Are you sure, Thor? Are you sure he’s not just…what’s the word you use…jesting?”

Thor shakes his mighty head. “Nay! I have never seen my brother so genuine.”

“Jesus Christ, he’s the _God of Mischief_ and _Lies._ If he _doesn’t_ look genuine then _that’s a pretty poor show on his part.”_ Tasha’s hands are quivering over her guns.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” mumbles Steve.

Thor looks annoyed. “ _No,_ Lady Natasha, this is _truth._ I know my brother better than any in the entirety of the nine realms. He truly wishes to repent for what he has done. Will you not give him a chance?”

The team exchange glances.

“…Call Fury. Tell him we have a…situation.”

*

“And I really am very, very sorry for blowing up that building in Manhattan.”

Loki is seated at the board table, hands bound, completely vulnerable. _Of his own accord,_ Tony reminds himself. _What the hell._

“Did you fall on your head or somethin’?” Fury questions, hands clasped behind his back and pacing furiously. Loki shakes his head. “Did a spell of yours backfire?” Again, Loki shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” Fury hisses, stopping his pacing, “am I _missing something_ here?”

“Only that this Midgardian Christmas has revealed things to me that I have been, for so long, blanketing with frightful bitterness and rage. I am a changed man. I come in peace, my only wishes being your undeserved forgiveness and…and…”

“Say it, brother,” Thor urges eagerly.

“I do so very much hope that you will allow me to take part in your Christmas festival tomorrow.”

The room buzzes with low voices and laughter, but Fury’s face stays stony.

“How can we be sure that you ain’t lyin’?”

“Because of these,” Loki says, and Thor produces two thick gold bracelets. “They are of Asgard. I requested that Thor retrieve them. They repress my magic and Asgardian strength. They, you could say, make me mortal when I wear them.”

Fury locks eyes with Thor. “This true?”

“No falsity has been uttered,” Thor confirms.

“Well then…I…I don’t really know what to say?” Fury rubs his temples.

“Allow him to feast with us!” Thor cries. “See the good man my brother once was, and is once again. My, it is most magnificent to have you back, dear friend.” Loki smiles up at Thor, and it’s at that moment that Fury realises that Loki really _has_ changed. That smile couldn’t be anything other than real.

“ _Fine._ Loki can spend Christmas Day with us. But one fuck up. One _tiny_ little fuck up and I will discard all the rounds in my gun into his skull – into _your_ skull – do you _understand_?” Loki nods quickly, biting his lip, looking as though he really doesn’t know what he’s let himself in for.

*

Clint blinks. Someone is shaking him. Instinctively, he whips the knife from under his pillow and grabs the collar of the assailant, pressing the knife to his gullet.

“Barton! At ease!”

Clint blinks more. Steve gulps over the knife edge.

“Oh crap, sorry.” Clint removes the knife, and Steve strokes at the red line on his neck. “Whassup?”

“It’s morning.”

“…It…it’s Christmas?”

Steve nods. “Mmmhmm.” He smiles.

“…Has…has he _been?”_ Clint’s voice is nothing short of a squeak.

“You’ll have to come see for yourself,” Steve winks, dragging the archer out of bed and letting him slip into a bath robe before running beside him towards the living room.

When they walk through the doors, everyone is already in there, and Clint is met by a loud “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” and Tony drapes tinsel over his shoulders, singing _We Wish You a Merry Christmas._ Clint beams and spots the mountain of presents under the tree, gawping at the amount.

“HE’S _BEEEEEEN!”_

“It’s like having a child,” Tasha says, rolling her eyes but unable to keep from looking highly amused. “Look at him, oh, sweet thing.”

Clint is surrounding himself with gifts marked with his name, and he twists his head so he can ask, “Can I open them?” to which everyone simultaneously says, “YES!” and watches as the man-come-boy tears into the wrapping.

*

Tony immediately regrets buying Clint the remote control helicopter. The archer has been chasing people around with it all day and it’s gotten to the point where Tony casually mentions to Bruce that after taking Clint and his fucking toy to a remote place, it may be a good time to get angry. Bruce just chuckles and ducks his head as the helicopter swoops low across the living room.

“Let him have his fun.”

Loki has assumed a position against the wall, and has been watching the morning’s events play out. After seeing Clint’s reaction to Santa’s visit, he’s glad that he changed his mind. It feels good, so good, to be well, _good_ again.

But everyone still seems very wary of him.

Everyone but Thor.

“Brother! Come! There is much need for your culinary skills in the kitchen!”

“What, Thor, I-”

“NO, STEVE! DON’T – NO THAT’LL RUIN THE – WHAT NO!” Tasha’s voice rips through the tower. Thor’s point is made, and he tugs Loki out of the room. The screaming of Natasha Romanoff has everyone following, and when they reach the kitchen, all hell has broken loose.

Pans are overflowing, there’s a burning smell and Natasha, Pepper and Steve are all drenched in sweat.

“Well, seems like you’ve got this covered,” Tony cackles, but squeals when a knife pangs into the wooden doorframe not millimetres from his temple.

“IF YOU CAN DO A FUCKING BETTER JOB, THEN DO IT YOUR FUCKING SELF!” Tasha shrieks, storming up to Tony and yanking the knife out of the wall. “I WILL DRIVE THIS INTO YOUR JUGULAR YOU-”

“Lady Natasha, this is most foul.” They all look over at Thor who standing by Natasha’s cooking area, licking his fingers.

“Oh snap,” Clint gasps.

Tasha roars, throws herself over the counter and circles Thor.

“Foul, you say?” she snarls.

“Quite,” Loki agrees, sliding his finger across his tongue with a grin.

 “THERE ARE TOO MANY NORSE GODS IN THIS KITCHEN!”

“What exactly is this?” Loki asks, and manages to grip the knife just as it touches his neck. He hisses as the knife cuts into his skin, as being on par with a mortal now, his godly strength is non-existent.

“Put the knife _down.”_ Coulson is striding into the kitchen, wearing an apron and wielding a gun. Tasha lowers her weapon, as does Coulson. “Now, let’s see the damage you’ve done.” He peers about him. “Okay, I’m going to need someone to do a trip to the larder. I need all the vegetables you can find – enough for us all. I need another turkey because what the hell is this?” He stands up from opening the oven and reveals a piece of coal that resembles…a piece of coal. “There’s another that’s been cooking for a few hours in the oven in the staff kitchen. Bring that, we’ll resume its cooking in here.” Coulson turns to Loki. “I heard you’re a dab hand in the kitchen?”

Loki recoils slightly. “Well, I’ve been known to make good-”

“You’re with me. And you, Potts, you seemed to actually know what you were doing. The rest of you, you can either stay and obey my every damn word, or you can go play with your toys.” Clint pouts when Coulson aims that last part at him. Coulson throws an apron at Loki, who holds it at arm’s length, evaluating it. Then Coulson evaluates Loki’s attire. “Hell, you can’t cook in that.”

Not much later, Loki is dressed in – wait for it – skinny black jeans and a dark green polo shirt. Loki looks uncomfortable but does not complain, and wraps his apron around himself before beginning to chop carrots. Coulson appears to be quite the chef, and Thor watches the scene with interest and too many questions.

“What is that strange, moulding, rounded thing?”

“That’s a potato.”

“What an odd thing it is,” Thor ponders, rolling one about in his palm.

“I’m sorry, what am I supposed to do with these?” Loki asks, holding up parsnip.

“Just…ugh, come here.” Coulson grabs it, agitated, and shows Loki what to do. “See?”

“Thank you.”

Coulson eyes Loki again.

“This is weird shit. I mean, you’re supposed to be evil and now you’re chopping parsnips for the Avengers Christmas Dinner.”

Loki shrugs. “I had a change of heart.”

“You mean it grew three sizes?” Tony is leaning against the doorframe.

“Excuse me?”

The billionaire waves his hand in disregard. “Never mind. How’s the cookin’, good lookin’?” he purrs into Pepper’s ear after he’s crossed the room.

“I think…I think we’re nearly done with the vegetables. Right, Phil?”

Phil nods. “I think we are! Once they’re done we’ll leave them for a while in the fridge, then we’ll come back later close to when the turkey’s done and we’ll cook ‘em up!” Coulson seems very proud of himself.

“And you, Mr. Multiple Personality, you’re doing a fine job _grating that cabbage.”_

Coulson yelps as he realises what Loki is doing. “WHAT THE HELL THAT IS A CABBAGE WHY ARE YOU GRATING IT?!”

Loki looks horrified. “Is this not the same vegetable as we have on Asgard, Thor?” He holds it out for his brother to inspect. Thor shakes his head.

“No, the vegetable you are thinking of is far more yellow. This has a greenish tinge. Brother, you have angered our friend.” Thor points.

“ _GRATING_ _CABBAGE_! What next? Taking a pestle and mortar to turkey? _Please Lord help me.”_

Coulson is very flustered.

“I did not mean to offend. I am sorry, I will…cut it?”

“YES, CUT THE CABBAGE. CUT IT.”

Loki shuffles away and glares as he drives the knife into the cabbage, muttering curses.

*

“Stark, for the last time, I ain’t got time to be chowin’ down on Christmas dinner!”

“Sir, our main concern is going to be seated directly opposite you. You’ll have your eyes –eye – on him the entire time. What’s the harm in relaxing a little?”

Fury glares. “You cannot relax when you are in my position.”

Tony whistles. “No wonder you’re always so tense. God, man. Just…one afternoon? With your little team of supedy dupers and your – did Coulson ever tell you he was like, a cookery god? – agent buddy and an ex-villain?”

“I was aware of Agent Coulson’s skill. He once made me a trifle that was simply-” Fury stops smiling. “…Shut up.”

“I said nothing,” Tony says honestly, lifting his hands earnestly.

“I can’t. I can’t just kick back and take an afternoon off.”

“Yes. You can. And you will. Otherwise Bruce will drag you to your chair and _force_ turkey down your throat.”

“Are you _threatening_ me, Mr. Stark?” The SHIELD director has descended upon Tony and it’s fucking terrifying.

“Are you _resisting_ Christmas cheer, Mr. Fury? Because that’s really sad. Even Loki’s put aside the evil so that he can join in. You gotta see something in that. Plus, there’s gonna be cauliflower cheese.”

Fury goes to retort, then stops himself. “…Cauliflower cheese?”

Tony nods. “Yeah huh. Cauliflower cheese.”

*

The crowded table is buzzing with chatter and laughter just before Coulson finally unveils the turkey by lifting off its silver lid. The group gasps and applauds – it looks _delicious._

“I heard you grated cabbage?” Steve says to Loki, who’s at the foot of the table opposite Fury, who’s at the head. Loki blushes, and Tony _still_ isn’t over the fact that this guy is the same guy who nearly got him killed on more than one occasion.

“I wasn’t aware that it wasn’t the proper way.” Seriously, now there are puppy-eyes? What the fuck has happened to the world?

“Director, will you do the honours?” Coulson asks, handing the carving utensils to Fury. He runs his thumb over the handle, and then chuckles.

“It would be my pleasure.”

The meat is dished out, and everyone has laden their plates with the steaming vegetables. Thor’s pile is gargantuan, but no one mentions it.

“Jeez, this is the best day ever!” Clint whoops, smacking his lips. “First Santa, then a helicopter, then this spread... _damn_.”

“This Santa fellow, he truly makes people happy, doesn’t he?” Loki aims his question at Steve and Tony, who are sitting opposite one another in front of him.

“He sure does,” Steve replies.

“Hey, don’t tell Barton I told you this, but uh, Santa isn’t real,” Tony whispers behind his hand to Loki. A leg of turkey whacks him in the side of the head.

Loki starts at this, dropping his at-the-ready knife and fork to the table. The loud noise silences the group, and all eyes are on him.

“What do you mean, he isn’t real?”

“He’s a fantasy figure who parents say is the one who brings presents when it’s actually them. He’s a story-book man. Nothing more.”

*

Loki wipes his mouth on a napkin, trying to hide his laughter. How could he have been so _stupid?_ Finally, he can’t control it and he guffaws, rocking the table. He laughs at himself, for the first time in…in _ever,_ and it is this realisation that he can be so wrong and not feel bitter about it after that at last puts his battling heart to peace.

“…Care to share the joke?”

“The joke, my friends, is on me,” Loki giggles. “Now, we must feast!”

“Uh, can we say grace first?” Steve blinks innocently when he’s suddenly the centre of attention. “What? I’ve never made us do it before. But today is Christmas. And…and I’m older than all of you! Therefore we are saying grace.”

“GRACE!” Thor shouts gaily, thrusting his cup into the air.

“Thor, _what_?”

“You declared that we say grace?”

“No _no_ it’s giving thanks for our food,” Steve sighs. Everyone is snorting. “Shush, and bow your heads.” With a unanimous snigger, the group follows orders. “Dear Lord, we humbly thank you for this food we are about to receive. Amen. Dig in, guys.”

“At last!” Bruce delves into his meal, quickly followed by everyone else. Loki watches the scene unfold; the scurried eating, the jests, the joy. He smiles to himself. He’s made the right choice. He’s done being evil. He’s done hating the universe and everything in it. Here, he knows just who he is. There’s no one lying to him. The jokes are all genuine. It’ll take some time to gain the complete trust of the Avengers, but he’s willing to work at it.

“Here, pull a cracker, boss!” Clint waves a cracker under Fury’s nose.

“Clint…”

“C’mon! It’s just a cracker.”

Fury grips the end and they yank backwards. Clint slumps when Fury wins, and the director holds a small thimble in his hand.

“Well ain’t that useful.”

“Put the hat on!” Tony calls.

“Say what?”

“The hat! Inside the cracker! Yeah, that’s the one. Pop it on then.”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Nope. Put it on.”

“Put it on!” the table begins jeering, and eventually Fury gives in and slips the papery hat onto his head.

“Ta da,” he grumbles.

“Wait, wait,” Tony says, holding a camera and snapping a photo. Fury rips the hat off.

“STARK!”

Tony leans closer to Pepper. “This is totally going online.”

“STARK!”

“Oh crap.”

“Delete that image _right now_.”

“Ummmm I don’t think so. This is gold. _Gold.”_

Fury is on his feet. Tony is too.

“Give me the camera,” Fury snarls, dangerous.

“Make me.” Tony pokes his tongue out, but then regrets it when Fury strides towards him.

“SIT _DOWN.”_ Everything stops. Coulson is standing too, but he’s glowering more than Fury. “Three of us have just spent _hours_ preparing a lovely meal for us to eat and _you are not going to ruin it._ Sit your _butts_ back on your chairs and _appreciate the effort.”_

Tony looks at Fury. Fury looks at Tony. They both look at Coulson.

“Sorry Phil,” they mutter together. They shuffle back to their seats and sit. Steve is biting his lip to keep from laughing. He’s not alone. The entire table busts out into laughter only seconds later, and even Fury’s grinning.

Yes, Loki thinks, smiling. He’s _definitely_ made the right choice.


End file.
